


Sign of Three

by Danagirl623



Series: Greg/John/Sherlock [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Depression, M/M, One Shot, celebration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-13 14:29:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17489741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Danagirl623/pseuds/Danagirl623
Summary: Just a little one shot where John's career changes.So in this story, Sherlock, Greg, and John are married and raising two children. Rosie and Hamish are twins. They call John, "Daddy," Sherlock "Papa," and  Greg "Gràdh."  "Gràdh" means "love" in  Scottish Gaelic.No BetaKudos and Comments are appreciated.





	Sign of Three

John watched the young men goof off at the other end of the pub. He got lost in his thoughts as he spun the sweating beer between his fingers. A gentle throat clearing got him to make eye contact with his husband. “Christ, Greg, were we ever that young?”  He asked with a laugh, returning his gaze to the youths. 

 

“Are you kidding me? You’re still that young.” 

 

John smiled, sliding his eyes from the lads to make eye contact, again, with his silver fox husband. “That’s what happens when you marry the hot, young man at the crime scene.” 

 

“Ah, well, ‘Lock said no, but thankfully,  **you** were free.” 

 

“Arse,” John huffed, affectionately. 

 

“Why don’t we go home and see if he managed to burn the house down yet?” 

 

“Rosie and Hamish won’t let him.” 

 

“I think that you’ve got high opinions of those kids. You know that they have Papa wrapped around their pinkies.” 

 

“Learned it from you I think,” John grinned, before he slid off his stool. “I hope they have some better sense than both of you. Falling for an old broken soldier like me.” 

 

“Excuse you! Don’t talk about my husband like that.” Greg held John’s coat up to him, and helped him into it. Greg placed a peck on John’s cheek. “Are you feeling sad tonight?”

 

“A bit yeah.”   

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Greg asked, pulling the younger man into his arms. John placed his nose against Greg’s pulsepoint and just breathed. 

 

“No, ta, Gràdh. Let’s just get home,”  John paused, before he pulled back and made eye contact. “I’m not really up for sex either.”

 

“Your body screams that, Johnny. Come on, let’s get you home and into bed. Maybe we can convince Sherlock to join us for a bit of a snuggle, yeah?” 

 

John smiled his pleasure, then made his way out of the crowded pub. “We were a bit too old for that place anyway.”

 

“I am maybe, but you darling will never be too old for any place.” John tucked his hand into Greg’s, and ducked his head down as they walked into the wind. 

 

“Walk or cab?”

 

“Walk, and before you ask yes the cold does aff- ah, fuck this. I  **want** to walk.” John took the lead and pulled his husband behind him. Greg increased his walking speed to walk beside his husband. 

 

“I wasn’t going to ask about your leg. I was going to ask about the recent bout of pneumonia.”

 

“Oh, I’m fine. That was two months ago…”

 

“A week at the most,” Greg disagreed, letting go of John’s hand to grab his arm. “Can we slow down. I’m a bit tired. I’m practically a senior citizen.”

 

John huffed out a laugh, but slowed his pace. Greg pulled his glove off, and tugged John’s off. He slid his hand into John’s naked one then tucked their hands into Greg’s pocket. “I love you, Johnny.”

 

“I love you too.”

 

The rest of the walk went by quickly and silently. The two men made their way up to the steps to 221B Baker Street just in time to say goodnight to the children. 

 

John left his husbands to finishing the nighttime ritual as he crawled into bed. Greg joined him first, wrapping his arms around John, still facing him.

 

“Pretty lame anniversary date.” 

 

“Not true. I really enjoyed it.”

 

“Yeah, Gràdh. I’m sure you did.” John exhaled loudly, a bit dismissively.

 

“John. You of all people know how little I need in my life. I have my husbands, and our children. Everyone is healthy and whole. Spending any time with you is time well spent-”

 

“Gregory, dear,”  Sherlock said, as he came into the room. “Don’t waste your breath. Our dear John is determined to be a Mr. Grump tonight.” Sherlock set to stripping down, before he crawled into bed behind John, who he scooted as close as possible to.

 

“Yes, darling mine,” Greg laughed, then rolled over to turn the light off.

 

Darkness descended around the three men as they clung to each other. 

 

“John Hamish, I’m so proud to be your husband,” Sherlock whispered in John’s ear, reaching out for Greg’s hand. “I know for a fact that marrying you was the best thing I ever could have done.”

 

“I don’t doubt it,” John whispered, trying not to cry. “I don’t feel bad about you,” John managed a few minutes later. 

 

“And we both know that you can’t help how you’re feeling, but we’re here for you. Our darling Heart. Our Johnny,” Greg added, placing a kiss on John’s nose. 

  
“I hate it,” John moaned, the tears rushing down his cheeks. 

  
“We know,” Sherlock whispered, entwining his legs with his husbands. 

 

“Shh, shh,” Greg cooed, cupping John’s cheek and using his thumb to brush tears away. “It’s ok, our John. It’s ok.” 

  
“No, it’s not,” John sobbed. “They fired me.” 

  
“Well, that’s not so bad-” Sherlock started, but cut himself off when he felt a pinch. “Ouch, Greg!” John leaned back against Sherlock.

  
“I hate not having a job. I don’t feel useful.” 

 

“You’re a father, a husband-” Greg tried to soothe him. 

 

“I’m a doctor, first,” John said, adamantly. 

  
“I’m sorry, John, but this is not the first time this has happened to us. We’ll bounce back, we always do,” Sherlock murmured. “You know we’ll be okay.”

  
“I just want stability,” John managed to get out through his tears.

  
“Ok, so a typical desk job isn’t working for you, why not go freelance?” Sherlock asked, kissing John’s ear. 

  
“We can’t afford two freelancers.” Greg said, with a groan. He started doing the math mentally and finally announced, “My salary is barely enough to-” 

  
“I have a trust fund. I can take enough out for the next six months, then John can stay home and write. There’s that offer from The Strand online… You could write our cases, John. Stay home to try it out. It’s just six months-” 

  
“You already tapped the trust fund to pay for the children’s schooling,” John pointed out, wiping his eyes. He was a bit tired after crying, and being snuggled up with his husbands made him sleepier. 

  
“So what? Mycroft laughed when I told him how much I needed. He said, “That’s all you want?” I said to him, “Greg and John said it’s so much.” Then he said something about it just being a drop in the bucket.” Sherlock cleared his throat, before he placed a kiss on John’s temple. “The problem is I don’t care about money. I know we need it to pay for the tea for John and coffee for Greg-” 

  
“Just where do you think the things for Rosie and Hamish come from?” Greg asked, as he ran his thumb over John’s forehead in a repetitive motion. 

  
“You or John. They tell you what they need, and you provide it.” 

  
“How do we obtain it?” 

  
“Money,” Sherlock said in a dismissive tone. “I’m not stupid, you know.” 

  
“Darling, you are a bit stupid. You-”

  
“Obviously,” John muttered, with a yawn. “He deletes unimportant information. Gràdh, you know that doesn’t count.” 

  
“Go to sleep, Johnny.”

 

“We can figure it out tomorrow,” Sherlock reassured his husband, giving his other husband’s hand a squeeze.

 

“Love you both,” John murmured, then fell silent. He ignored his husbands’ chatter as he pretended to sleep. John was thinking about the cases, but decided his favorite was the one where they got married and solved the case just before murder could happen. It was great to save a life, John did it all the time, but to catch the photographer before an escape could happen was a special feat indeed. A special case for a special day. John grinned into the dark at the memory, and spent quite a bit of time thinking about that day before he drifted off to sleep.   
  


 

  
In the middle of the night, John woke from a nightmare, with a gasp. He opened his eyes, and felt a strange craving in him. John stretched his body out, and thought about what the craving could be. 

 

Suddenly it dawned on him, and he scrambled out of bed to fulfill his craving. He shut the door behind him, and went into the living room. He switched on the lamp next to the the coffee table, and opened his laptop. He pulled up a blank word document. Slowly, John tapped out the story of their wedding. 

 

A cup of steaming tea appeared beside him, with a kiss on the forehead. “You weren’t in bed, Johnny.”

 

“Thanks ‘Lock. I just-”

 

“That’s backwards.”  Sherlock pointed out, sipping his own tea, sitting down beside him. “It’s important that we tell it in correct order.”

 

“We?” John asked, in a sassy tone.

 

“You,”  Sherlock said, with a smile. “Will you look at me?”

 

John tore his eyes away from the screen to glance at Sherlock, then went right back to the screen. Sherlock waited, staring at his husband happily. Finally John tore his eyes away from the screen, and made eye contact with Sherlock. “Hi,” John breathed, taking in his husband’s face. 

 

“My John, look at you. It seems like danger’s not the only thing that you dive head first into.” 

 

John smiled, before he leaned in for a kiss. “Your mind is brilliant, my love. Of course I want to celebrate it.” 

 

“What about your brilliant mind?”  Sherlock asked, cupping his hand to John’s cheek. 

 

“My mind is only sharp because of trying to keep with Greg because we both know that there’s no way to keep up with you,” John teased, before kissing his husband again. “Your brilliant mind that-”

 

Sherlock huffed, “It’s you. You’re the one holding this marriage together.” 

 

John leaned forward and rested his forehead on his husband’s. “I’m just a man.”

 

“The best man either one of us has ever met,” Greg confirmed, walking out of the bedroom. “I’m never in bed alone. I was worried it was a danger night.” 

 

“We can’t have a danger night without you.” Sherlock put his arm out and Greg snuggled into it. 

 

“The gang’s all here. Party can start,” Greg said, with a yawn.

 

“Oh, go to bed the both of you!” John dismissed them. “I’m writing.”

 

“Bed’s too empty without you,” Greg pointed out, with a yawn. 

 

“‘Lock, take your husband to bed and let me write,” John instructed. 

 

“John, come back to bed with us.” Sherlock yawned, snuggling up to Greg. 

 

“Just go, lads. I’ll be joining you in a few minutes,” John encouraged, as he went back to typing. 

 

Together Sherlock and Greg decided to just sleep where they were. John got lost in his storytelling while the other two refused to leave the couch. 

  
  
  


After a few hours, John closed the laptop with a click, then glanced at his husbands. “Come on, you fools. Let’s get you lot to bed.” 

 

“Daddy, Daddy! Can we come downstairs?” Rosie asked, always the mouthpiece for the twins. 

 

“Of course you can. Papa and Gràdh are sleeping.” John announced to the sounds of two children running down the steps. They saw John, and threw themselves into his arms. “Good morning, darlings mine.” 

 

The two young children hugged their Daddy, and both started babbling at once. John laughed and nodded his agreement. 

 

“Daddy! Can we have hot chocolate?” Hamish asked, as he grabbed his Daddy’s hand and started to pull him towards the kitchen. 

 

“Hush, now, you,” Greg yawned. “Your Papa is still sleeping.”

 

Sherlock’s eyes popped open and stretched out. “I am not!”

 

“Papa!” Hamish cried, before he threw himself into his lap. “Let’s go get hot chocolate. Daddy makes it best. He puts-”

 

“Peppermint!” Rosie shouted, then slid off John’s lap. “Gràdh! Wake up! It’s morning.”

 

Greg groaned, and rubbed his face. “Your Daddy kept me and Papa up for hours. I’m so sleepy.” 

 

“Come on, Daddy! It’s time.”

 

“Why don’t you stay here with Papa and Gràdh while I work?” The two children snuggled up to their other two fathers. 

 

John made his way out to the kitchen, and set to work brewing coffee and boiling hot water. John snagged a biscuit out of the sleeve and chewed one thoughtfully. “Gregory Holmes, stop creeping. Just get over here and talk to me.” 

 

“How did you know it was me?”

 

“Sherlock’s tred is usually more expensive.”

 

Greg laughed appreciatively, and wrapped his arms around John’s waist. “How are you feeling?”

 

“Not great, but not bad,” John admitted, as he focused on the stove. 

 

“We’ll figure it out, baby. We’ll make it through this.”  Greg whispered in John’s ear. John nodded, and turned to face him. 

 

“I love you, Greg. Thank you for putting up with me.”

 

“You’re my burden-”

 

John slapped Greg’s chest, before he snuggled into his arms. Greg wrapped his arms around John. 

 

“You my darling lad are one of my favorite humans. I want all of you, for years and years to come.” Greg kissed the top of John’s head. 

 

“Even the grumpy bits?”

 

“Especially those. You’re so handsome when you’re mid-grump.” Greg reminded his husband.

 

“I’m so glad you’re here for all those bad days.”

 

“I love you, too, John.”

 


End file.
